The War for the Known Worlds
by YinYangYami
Summary: T-Rating, just in case. Post-The Torment, The Release (Season 4). The War for the Known Worlds begins, as the Magog approach the Known Worlds, and the inhabitants of the Tri-Galaxies fight amongst themselves. Will the Commonwealth pull itself back togethe
1. Ne'Holland, Capital of the Commonwealth

Disclaimer: I don't own _Andromeda_, nor do I own the characters or planets or ships… well… except the ones I make up myself… I guess I have a right to those. But in any case I write this purely for fun of it, not to make profit.

NOTE: This takes place just after _The Torment, The Release_, back in the middle of Season 4. I will attempt to revisit Season 4 in my own way, and even maybe Season 5 (yes, Seefra may eventually come into play, but I will try to make it make sense, OK? So please don't shoot me down just because you see that Seefra will come along some time). The calculations for the fleet statistics, I made up - I made up the amount of PDLs, missile tubes, etc. were on each type of war craft and simply multiplied by the amount of each type. Had I been able to use I would have, but it apparently is no longer functioning.  
Also, "Andromeda" (non-itallicized) is the on-screen/main AI; Holo-Rommie is the holographic version; Rommie is, obviously, Rommie the android.

Please Read and Review!

The _Andromeda_ exited Slipstream into the Ne'Holland System. Just days ago, though it seemed like moments, the Collectors fired on the _Andromeda_ and the ships under the command of Tri-Lorn: the Commonwealth Civil War had begun in the Commonwealth's own capital system, Tarazed. Ne'Holland was among the systems that sided with Dylan. It was a competition between Castalia and Ne'Holland to be the temporary seat of power for Dylan's Commonwealth… the true Commonwealth.

Such were the ponderings of Trance Gemini as she felt the familiar lurch of the ship that signified reversion to normal space. On the central viewscreen of Command Deck, was the beautiful blue-green planet that was Ne'Holland Prime and an entire fleet surrounding it.

"And there is our new headquarters, ladies and gentlemen," Dylan Hunt said.

"How long was it," Rommie quipped, "since I sent Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum to the planet to secure King Erik's claim to the throne?"

"Two years, Rommie," Beka responded.

"Sad, ain't it?" Harper smirked. Everyone looked at him questioningly. "Well, think about it. Not more than just two years ago, this system was just teetering on the brink of civil war, with assassinations happening left and right, and now we come here for refuge. Shows how desperate we are to come to such an unstable system, I think."

"You forget, Harper," Trance said, "that since the coronation of Erik, Ne'Holland has for the first time in three centuries had a democratic government ruled by and for the people. If you recall, the first Ne'Hollander Prime Minister, Madame Prevor, was a likely candidate for the Triumvirate."

"Yeah, that was before those tunnel aliens killed her and nearly destroyed us," Harper finished the story, "and took Tyr and Beka—" Beka cleared her throat. "—Oh, sorry, boss, forgot you don't want to talk about it."

"You also forget, Harper," Holo-Rommie appeared in front of him, "that Ne'Holland located at a strategic Slipstream nexus. Not only are significant systems like Sinti and Castalia linked by Slip-routes to this solar system, but it is also a place that will be among the first of the Commonwealth worlds likely to be attacked by the Magog World Ship."

"That is why," Dylan added to Harper's lesson in recent history, "the Ne'Hollanders and the Restored Systems Commonwealth have been pumping much money in fortifying it and training the Home Guard, which as you should also know has been established a year and a half ago."

"Alright alright," Harper rolled his eyes, "so the Ne'Hollanders are significant now. It still doesn't erase their unstable past!"

"I doubt they'll be joining the Collectors any time soon," Dylan replied. "King Erik knows that the Collectors are in the wrong, and the Ne'Hollander people also have no sympathies for the Collectors."

"Ne'Holland was, after all, one of the systems in which Tri-Lorn got a majority in the election to the Triumvirate," Rommie added.

"See? We have nothing to worry about, Harper."

Telemachus Rhade laughed under his breath at the crew's joint reprimand of Harper.

"What are you laughing at, _uber_?" Harper said, irritated, the insult prompting Rhade to fake a backhanded slap – seen as a classic Nietzschean reprimand for slaves and "lesser beings".

Andromedaappeared on the central screen. "Captain, incoming communication from the surface of the planet. It's King Erik."

"On-screen."

King Erik's upper chest, head, and glorious crown appeared on the screen. "Welcome back, Dylan. It's been too long."

"Yes, it certainly has, my friend. Thank you for accepting us."

"It's an honor to host the Commonwealth. Thank _you_." Erik's smile disappeared. "I hear there is a Collector fleet massing in Urudi, a system connected to ours. And that the World Ship is nearing, months away."

"Yes, your intel is correct, unfortunately."

"Ah," Erik pursed his lips. "Our location at a Slipstream Nexus looks as if it may be our doom. Back in the day of the old Commonwealth, we were a trade center, benefiting from passing merchants. Now… it's a curse, not a blessing."

"Well, I'm sure before the Collector takeover of the Triumvirate, that you have managed to profit again somewhat," Dylan replied, "both economically and militarily."

"Ah, yes, the Home Guard. We are indeed ready to face any attack from any direction. And with the High Guard also stationed here… I'm sure we can defeat any fleet – Magog or Collector – that comes in here."

"Confidence is good. I've always said that pessimism is not a survival trait," Dylan remarked, reflecting at what he said to his best friend and would-be best man just before killing him. "But do not underestimate the Magog. Their numbers are their forte. And the Collectors… well, there is a reason they used to be librarians – they've got terrific intelligence."

"Well, not enough to realize that the Magog will come whether they rule the Tri-Galaxies or not. And certainly they are stupid enough to believe that the Abyss will help them."

"With that, I agree."

Rhade cut in. "Your Highness, can you tell us the composition of the armed forces currently in this system?"

"Yes, Commander Rhade," King Erik looked down, apparently punching in some commands on a control pad. "I am sending you Ne'Hollander Home Guard fleet statistic now, as well as the record of the High Guard ships that entered with Tri-Lorn yesterday."

Dylan thanked him, and asked if they can continue the conversation later, to which the King responded with a nod. The comm-link clicked off and the digital schematic of the _Andromeda Ascendant_ rotating returned to the screen.

"The Home Guard of the Ne'Holland System," Rommie began, "is composed of 79 Frigates, 30 Light Cruisers, and 4 Heavy Cruisers, as well as a total complement of 400 Slipfighters. Total combined firepower: 8,380 PDLs, 76 AP Cannons, 5,280 offensive missile tubes and 5,280 defensive missile tubes, 80,000 offensive missiles and 80,000 defensive missiles."

"Whoa, that is _a lot_ of firepower," Harper sighed in awe.

Rommie continued. "The High Guard fleet that arrived consists of 1 Siege-Perilous Destroyer – we all know him: Ryan, in the _Wrath of Achilles_ – as well as 20 Light Cruisers and 40 Frigates. And… well… you all do the math. I got tired of reciting the ship specs," Rommie said with a frown. "It makes me jealous."

"Oh, don't worry Rommie," Harper walked over to the android and started massaging her synthetic shoulders. "I still love ya."

Rommie reacted quickly, smacking his hand away. "Shut up, Harper!"

"Sheesh! A guy tries to cheer you up…"

"Do we know how large the fleet is that's coming out of Urudi?" Beka asked.

"According to a report by Indra Xicol, our operative in Tri-Jema's office, the Collector fleet is 75 of the size of the fleets here," Holo-Rommie answered.

"But in terms of firepower, ours and theirs is even," Rommie finished and again pursed her lips. "I'm jealous."

"Wait a minute!" Harper again interrupted. "We have Indra Xicol working for us? _The _Indra Xicol?"

"Yeah," Beka replied nonchalantly, "we do. Wondrous, isn't it?"

"Ummm, well duh!" Harper said as he walked toward the Slipstream controls were Beka was still standing. "Indra Xicol is only the most famous spy in the Tri-Galaxies. One of the greatest oxymorons I have _ever_ heard, but I digress… She is better than the Collectors' entire spy network! She's assassinated more political leaders than the Leper and his sister _combined_! I bet you _she_ could've assassinated Ka-Lupe if she was hired to."

"Harper! Don't talk like that!" Trance stepped in. "He is a very generous and idealistic way! And you talk about the assassination attempt on him like it was a joke!"

"Relax, sweetie. I'm just sayin'. Indra Xicol is the greatest spy since Mata Hari."

Dylan looked at Harper, confused. "Mata who?"

"She was a spy on Earth back in the pre-Commonwealth days," Harper briefly explained, "who used her womanly charms to get military plans from the enemy. Anyways, noone has even seen Indra Xicol's real _face_! The woman has had more plastic surgery than Michael Jackson's nose!" Again, Dylan looked confused. "Ancient Earth, Dylan, ancient Earth."

"Well, then it's a great thing that we got her working for us," Rhade remarked. "She is an asset that may help us defeat the Collectors."

"Unless…" Trance started.

"Unless what?"

"Well, she _could_ be working _against_ us. She _is_ the most renowned spy of the Tri-Galaxies. She's fooled entire _planets_ into believing her. How hard can it possibly be to fool us?"

"Well, Tri-Lorn trusts her," Dylan dismissed the doubts, "and so do I. As the only Triumvir to defend me at that show trial on Tarazed, Tri-Lorn would know who's on our side and who's not."

Noone saw the look of frustration on Trance's face. _When will you learn to trust my intuitions!_

"Was Indra able to find out _when_ the fleet will attack?" Beka asked.

"Unfortunately, no, not directly," Dylan answered, "but an agent in Urudi told her the fleet will launch an attack on Ne'Holland in 3 days. That gives us a day to compose a defense strategy, a day to ensure that the fleet knows exactly what to do and when to do it…"

"What about the third day?" Beka asked.

"Well, today, we have a little relaxation time on the planet." Dylan smiled.

"I think I'm going to stay here, actually, look after my plants," Trance said.

"OK, anyone else staying up here?" Dylan looked around Command Deck. "Beka?"

"Eh, I guess I could use some relaxation time, too, even though it's on a planet."

For the next few hours, the crew went planetside to have some relaxation time at the Royal Palace. Trance, however, stayed behind on the _Andromeda_, tending to her plants, as well as her bonsai.

_I try to help and they don't listen! Why can't they heed my warnings? Does he still have doubts about me since the Pyrian attack on Samsarra? I thought we already buried that hatchet! I trusted him enough to show him what I was! Why can't he TRUST ME?_

She did not realize that in her anger she chopped off a branch of an Anastarian Tundra Flower, one of the few remaining since the atmospheric destruction of Krrendar, the Nightsider homeworld.

_Well, good thing that wasn't the bonsai I just chopped off._

Meanwhile, on Ne'Holland Prime, Beka and Rhade looked at the sunset of the star Ne'Holland.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Rhade said, his eyes focused on the blue lakes and the green hills against the orange-tinted sky of the setting sun.

"Yeah, sure," Beka said nonchalantly, with a little bit of sarcasm, as she sipped her drink.

"So why _do_ you hate planets? I mean it must be a strong hatred if you can't even enjoy the sunset. And if it's a strong hatred, then there must be a strong reason."

"I told you. I was born in the 'stream."

"But why?"

"Rhade, there are people who were born on a planet and can say 'I am a Ne'Hollander' or 'I am a Castallian', or 'I am an Earthling'. Well, what I am is a Slipstreamer. Slipstream doesn't' just run through the universe, it runs though my veins. Slipstream doesn't like planets – if a planet is too close to a Slip-portal, it can get torn apart. If a planet gets too close to me, I can tear it apart, too."

"It's your mother, isn't it?"

"Rhade, I already told you before when we were looking for that princess Aleiss! I do not want to talk about her!"

"Well, fine. But know that if you ever do need to talk, I will be here for you."

"What? On a planet? Don't hold your breath waiting for me to come."

"Beka…"

"Just – Just enjoy your sunset, OK?" Beka flashed a smile that didn't seem sincere and held up her empty glass of Ne'Hollander Royal Champagne. "I'm gonna go get another of these." She left Rhade alone and instead of going to the guest room's auto-refreshment console, she set the glass down and left the room, heading toward the _Maru_. _My real home_, she thought, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

Rhade just kept on looking at the view. _I lost someone, too, Beka. I understand._

In another room was Harper, looking at specs of the orbital defense satellites that were being installed in orbit of the system's 5 inhabited worlds.

"Pretty nice, pretty nice."

Then, he went on to inspect the specs for the Heavy Cruisers of the Ne'Hollander Home Guard. Or rather, he inspected their avatars. Lifesize likenesses appeared in front of him as holograms… Harper was dismayed. Three of them – Demos, Cassius, and Villem – were buffed up likenesses of King Erik, and one – Villemina – was based on the late Madame Prevor.

"Ugh! Nasty! Who would wanna look at _that_?"

Then, Erik, Dylan, and Rommie walked into the room. Harper quickly shut off the holograms but mentally compared the avatars to the real-life Erik. _Wow, he actually started working out. I remember he used to be scrawnier than I was._

"Thank you for the ego boost, Mr. Harper," Erik said with a smile. "We didn't have minds like yours on hand when constructing the ships and their avatars. Our engineers chose to honor me, and our first Prime Minister, May the Divine Watch Over Her."

"Ummm sorry Your Highness," Harper bowed nervously.

"Don't worry about it," Erik said calmly, "I've been wanting to see an attractive avatar myself. But, alas, my engineers want to honor me and our other political leaders, and not all of us are blessed with good looks such as mine."

_Well, I see your ego is more bloated than ever, Erik._ "I'm sure. Well, anyway, have you three been discussing a defense strategy when the Collectors attack?"

"Yeah, Rommie's sending messages to the fleet regarding coordination," Dylan answered.

Suddenly, Rommie had a startled look. No, not just startled… Scared.

"What's the matter, Rom-doll?" Harper asked, fearing what the answer may be.

"The sensors of the Heavy Cruiser _Royal Demos_ have detected multiple inbound Slipstream events." Rommie paused and closed her eyes, eyelids shifting subtly but frantically. Then, she opened them again. "Collectors – 30 Heavy Cruisers, 70 Light Cruisers, 60 Frigates – and… and Nietzscheans – 40 Destroyers and 100 Garuda-class Fighters."

King Erik frantically grasped for his flexi. He punched in commands and within seconds, alarms rang throughout the palace and spread across the planets of the system. The ODS's, only 50 of them fully operational, activated across the systems. Even as Erik punched in the commands, the crew of the _Andromeda_ ran toward the landing port, to the _Eureka Maru_, where Beka was already preparing the ship for take-off.

In orbit, the _Andromeda_ was extending Battle Blades, and the Home Guard and High Guard fleets moved on either side of the _Andromeda_ – the ships were not fully detailed on the plan and could not implement it.

On the _Andromeda_, the AI's voice rang through the corridors. "Battle stations! Battle stations! All crew! Man your battle stations!"

Trance ran toward Command Deck. The door opened in front of her as the first salvo was fired by the _Andromeda_ at a small squadron of Garuda-class Fighters.

The battle began… early.

_I knew this was coming! I knew it!_ Trance went to the fire control station.

To Be Continued…

Preview: The battle for Ne'Holland… Will Dylan and the true Commonwealth be able to defend the capital? Or will the Collectors and the Nietzscheans triumph in the first major battle of the Civil War and smash their enemies' morale and military?

(Will only continue if I get some reviews, people, so please review!)


	2. Battle of Ne'Holland

Thanks for the review, I appreciate it very much. I was beginning to fear noone would ever look at this thing.

Anyway, on with the story. I feel it pointless to constantly put on a disclaimer when people can just look at the first chapter they see, so I won't do it.

5 of the Nietzschean craft were vaporized by _Andromeda_'s missiles. Several more were crippled, dead in space, drifting closer and closer to the large ship's hull… That is, until the PDLs kicked in and blasted the crippled fighters as well.

"All battle stations are manned and ready," Andromeda announced through ship-wide. On Command Deck, she spoke directly to Trance, "I'm detecting a launch from the surface of Ne'Holland Prime. It's the _Eureka Maru_. They're hailing us and the rest of the fleet defending the system."

"On-screen, Andromeda," Trance nodded.

The visual was centered on Rommie as she spoke. "Attention all High Guard and Home Guard ships! Move _away_ from the planets! Take this battle as far away from the planets as possible, as the ODSs are not prepared. Do not allow a single Collector or Nietzschean past."

Then Dylan continued the message, and the screen shifted toward him. "Prep your Slipfighter squadrons immediately. Have them engage the Nietzschean Fighters. The Heavy Cruisers and the _Wrath of Achilles_ should concentrate fire on the Nietzschean Destroyers and the Collector Heavy Cruisers. Frigates and Light Cruisers, attack your Collector counterparts!" The message ended.

"Slipfighter pilots, prep for launch!" Andromeda announced ship-wide. "Repeat: pilots, prep for launch immediately!"

Most of the other ships had already launched their Slipfighters, and relentless fights began between the Nietzschean and Commonwealth pilots.

The 5 Heavy Cruisers – inclusive of _Andromeda_ and the 4 Ne'Hollander ships of the same class – were ridiculously outnumbered by the Collectors' own 30 Heavy Cruisers. However, the one advantage for the defending fleet was the presence of the _Wrath of Achilles_ – a lethal class of ship that was designed practically with the sole purpose of destroying other ships. To boot, the _Wrath_ was difficult to detect on sensors.

"Launching Slipfighters," Andromeda announced. "Firing missile tubes 1-40 at the Collector fleet."

Simultaneously, an entire salvo of missiles shot out from the Andromeda's hull alongside the streams of the Slipfighter squadrons. As the fighters and the missiles parted ways, each towards their own targets, one or two careless Slipfighter pilots veered off straight into the path of the missiles, exploding in blazes of unfortunate friendly fire.

One of the Collectors' Heavy Cruisers was severely damaged, and it managed only to send out a few Slipfighters of their own before blowing apart. The other Collector capital ships retaliated with a relentless barrage of missiles, some of which struck the _Andromeda_ and her fellow ships, others which were sent streaking toward the planet.

"Andromeda, use PDLs and defensive missiles to try and intercept those planetbound missiles!" Trance commanded, just a moment before a small tone signified the return of the Maru to its hangar. Missiles that got close enough to the _Andromeda_ were stopped by the PDLs. Missiles that were out of PDL range were shot down by defensive missiles. The other ships followed suit and tried to intercept the projectiles without opening gaps in the battle lines.

"30 of the missiles made it past the defense line," Andromeda reported, "and are heading toward the surface of Ne'Holland Prime. More specifically, the targets are the capital and the major cities of the planet. Functioning ODSs are initiating, but there is little chance they will be able to prevent the projectiles from impacting."

"Oh, that is just terrific! No matter, not all we can do is concentrate on the enemy fleet," Trance sighed, "Load and prep-reload all offensive missile tubes."

Orbiting the capital world, the functioning defense satellites charged their Point-Defense Lasers and their defensive missiles. As the Collectors' warheads streaked closer and closer, the ODSs began to barrage the wave. 12 of the missiles were shot down, but the rest managed to make it into the atmosphere. The sight of the oncoming projectiles caused people to panic. People in the air-taxis of the capital city caused traffic jams in the air lanes and accidents in their scramble to leave the industrial and administrative centers. It was too late, however – the first missile struck an embassy building, and was followed by 7 more, each hitting in a different part of the metropolitan area. The suburbs and the Royal Palace were not struck, but downtown went up in smoke and flames. King Erik watched the attack from a monitor in the bunker under his palace, sorrow on his face and tears in his eyes. A similar scene was repeated in 5 more metropolis of the planet. The enemy bombardment left not just smoldering ruins of buildings, but also dug deep craters into the surface.

In space, the battle was going a little better for the defending fleet. Though the Slipfighters suffered 60 casualties, the Nietzschean Fighters were either destroyed, crippled, or forced to flee the system. Many of the Nietzschean Destroyers were likewise blasted to shreds. The Collectors were faring better than the Nietzscheans, however. Of their 30 original Heavy Cruisers, only 6 were lost. Only half of the Light Cruiser and Frigate fleets were destroyed. On the defenders' side, the _Royal Demos_ and _Honor of Villemina_ were almost completely crippled, the _Villemina_ already evacuating its crew because it's Slipstream Core ruptured and was threatening to explode within moments. 78 of the Light Cruisers and Frigates that the High Guard and Home Guard fleets had at the beginning of the battle were by now clumps of parts and components.

"Ryan!" Dylan hailed the _Wrath of Achilles_ from Command. "Unload all your offensive missile tubes on the Collector Heavy Cruisers! If we destroy them, they may have to back off!"

"Acknowledged, sir," Ryan the android and AI of the _Wrath_ responded. No sooner than the comm. was terminated that the _Wrath_ unloaded barrage after barrage of its offensive ship-to-ship missiles. The Collector fleet lit up like an Ancient Earth Christmas Tree. Unfortunately, the huge amount of missiles Ryan shot allowed the Collectors to pinpoint much easier where he was. The remaining 12 Heavy Cruisers unloaded salvo after salvo of their own ordnance on the spot where the huge barrage originated.

"They're gonna hit him!" Harper stared at the tactical screen, watching dozens of pellets representing missiles speed toward the blip which was the _Wrath of Achilles_.

"No, they won't," Rommie countered. "The _Honor of Villemina_ is limping along to intercept." In fact the _Villemina_ was indeed drifting into the path of the missiles, making it just in front of the _Wrath_ so that the targeting mechanisms of the projectiles would confuse her for the real target. The missiles impacted on the hull, which was already beginning to implode. Rommie grimaced as her fellow Glorious Heritage Heavy Cruiser that was once the _Honor of Villemina_ shattered, its outlying arms breaking away from the central hull, battle blades being hurtled by the force of the explosions in all directions.

"Ryan, get out of there! You're gonna get hit!" Rommie screamed out loud, relaying the message through the AI comm. connection they had and not bothering to go on-screen for the whole crew to see and hear him.

"We're trying, but I don't think we can!" Ryan responded to Rommie through the AI link.

As the _Villemina_ shattered even further and finally exploded in a final huge ball of light, her arms and blades were shot at the Collector fleet, impaling and destroying several of their Light Cruisers and Frigates, but also at the _Wrath_.

"Ryan, come in!" Dylan hailed him. No answer. "Please report your status. Come in!"

Then, to the relief of the crew, Ryan responded, the reply fuzzy and staticky. "I'm OK. It's --- little --- navigational damage. It's no---ing serious. Just won't --- able --- Slipstream out --- here --- time soon."

"Well, at least you're OK," Dylan replied, "but you need some repairs. Fall back to orbit of the capital. We'll handle the rest of the Collectors."

"Captain," Andromeda replaced Ryan's face on the central screen, "what remains of the Nietzschean fleet is exiting the system. Two dozen of the Collector Light Cruisers and Frigates are also leaving."

"They're giving up so easily?" Harper muttered.

"I don't think so. They still have the upper hand," Rhade said. "With the _Wrath of Achilles_ and the _Royal Demos_ both knocked out of commission, we're outnumbered. They have a full dozen Heavy Cruisers left; we're only three."

"Alright, Andromeda signal our fleet," Dylan commanded, and a tone indicated that the fleet would get whatever message he was about to send. "Everyone except the Slipfighters, concentrate your fire on the Heavy Cruisers. The Slipfighters should pelt the smaller Collector ships that remain in the system. Overwhelm them, use swarming tactics—" Dylan stopped himself, grimacing as the concept is used by the vicious Magog, "OK, bad term, but you know what I mean."

The entire remaining fleet moved toward the Collector Heavy Cruisers and unleashed all hell and fury on the invaders. Unfortunately, the re-alignment of the fleet opened a few gaps in the line of defense. Though still pelted by PDL fire, a dozen Frigates made it through the gaps and headed straight for the planets.

"We've got to go after them!" Trance said, in a near-panicky voice.

"At this point, it's crunch time, Trance," Dylan said firmly. "If we defeat the Heavy Cruisers, the rest of the Collectors will have to flee. We can't turn back now."

"But you don't understand!"

Suddenly a klaxon rang loudly in Command. Andromeda appeared on the central screen. "Captain, I'm detecting the launch of 10 atomic warheads – 2 for each planet in the system." At the exact same moment, 4 of the Collectors' capital ships exploded, leaving 5 still fighting. "The Ne'Hollander ODSs are not equipped to intercept the warheads and have little chance of doing it successfully."

"Great!" Dylan groaned. "How long until the warheads reach the surface of each planet?"

"Five minutes."

"That's not enough time to get all the people to safety!" Rhade said.

"I know, but we have to at least warn them. Andromeda, send this message to all the Ne'Holland planets: Get as many people as possible into bunkers and out of the cities. The Collectors have launched 10 atomic warheads, 2 per planet. Repeat, get out of the cities and into the bunkers or the countryside! Hunt, out."

"The Frigates that launched the warheads have exploded," Rommie reported. "They self-destructed. The planets' gravitational forces will either pull the debris down and bombard the surface even further, or spread the debris out into an orbit, making it dangerous to get off-world and on-world."

More Collector ships were destroyed by the combined fire of the fleet.

"The Collector ships are opening Slipstream portals," Holo-Rommie appeared, "and the warheads will impact in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…" At the same moment as the last of the Collector ships jumped into the portals, 10 bright flashes blazed on the planets. "The Collectors are gone, and the warheads have detonated. Surprisingly, they did not target the capital city. Why?"

"Well, it's lucky that they didn't," Beka said, "but from what we've seen, it seems like it got quite a pounding as it is." She looked at the central screen, which showed the Slipfighter squadrons returning to their ships. "I should've been out there, commanding those squadrons. If I had only stayed on the _Andromeda_, I would've been with them."

"Don't feel guilty," Dylan walked over to Beka, "you're not to blame for any of this. And you couldn't have known that they would attack early, or that they would attack simultaneously with the Nietzscheans."

"But why," Rhade wondered, "did they not incinerate the capital city? It's one of the centers of industry and commerce – it could've crippled the Ne'Hollanders, and our Commonwealth, for months, if not years."

"Maybe there is something about the capital that King Erik is not telling us," Trance speculated. "Maybe they have something valuable, and the Collectors did not want it destroyed."

"I think it's time we have a little talk with Erik," Dylan said. "But first, tell me, Andromeda, how many of us are still left?"

"31 of the overall Home Guard and 49 of the overall High Guard fleets have survived the battle," Andromeda reported. "The _Royal Demos_ and _Wrath of Achilles_ are both out of commission, and will need repairs. We may have to tow them to the shipyard."

"I understand. Now, Trance, you're going to go down to the planet with me, in a Slipfighter," Dylan said as another signal notified of the return of the surviving Slipfighters. 20 of the 36 fighters made it. "The rest of you, stay here, in case the Collectors or Nietzscheans return. And Rommie?" She turned to face him. "Send a courier to Castalia. That's where Tri-Lorn is holding training wargames for the Castalian fleet."

On Ne'Holland Prime, King Erik looked at his flexi which showed the extent of the damage done to the capital city. The Royal Palace remained unscathed. He breathed relief. _It wasn't damaged, then. I hoped that they would be smart enough to avoid hitting the palace._

"Trance," Dylan began as they strapped into the Slipfighter, "do _you_ know why the Palace was specifically spared?"

"I don't, sorry," she lied. In fact, she knew exactly what it was. But she knew that if Dylan went down there and knew exactly what Erik was hiding, he'd start making demands right off the bat, and Erik's reaction could damage relations between Ne'Holland and Dylan's Commonwealth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As you can see, I can't write a good battle scene if my life depended on it, so I apologize for it, but at least I tried, that's all I can say.

PREVIEW: What _is_ King Erik hiding? How much _does_ Trance really know about what's going on? Will the Collectors and Nietzscheans regroup in time to wipe out the tattered remnants of the Ne'Holland fleet? And why was Indra Xicol, renowned intergalactic superspy, mistaken about the size of the fleet attacking Ne'Holland?...


	3. We have to talk

"So tell me, Erik," Dylan began as he, Trance, and the Ne'Hollander King walked down the Palace hallway toward the strategic command center to survey damage done to the planets, "why _was_ the capital spared atomic bombardment?"

"More specifically," Trance added, "why was the Palace not attacked _at all_? Surely it would have undermined the morale of the people and the Ne'Hollander Armed Forces."

The trio got closer to the entrance to the command center, the two gray-clad security officers already visible, force-lances extended into pike form.

"I do not know," Erik answered, "but quite frankly I am rejoicing. Complete destruction of our capital city would have not only undermined morale, but it would also have crippled our economy and production facilities. The vast infrastructural reforms that began with my ascension to the throne first targeted the capital city, and have still not completely lifted the other planets' metropolises into such huge resource centers as this city." He paused as the security guards bowed to him and keyed in the command to open the entrance.

"There _must_ be a reason, King Erik," Trance pressed. "There must be something the Collectors want from your capital, specifically, again, from your Palace."

"Well, I guess a possibility could be that they want to add the Royal Ne'Hollander System Archives to their collection."

"What exactly do the RNSA consist of?"

"Flexis detailing our history, ship specs of the old Commonwealth, records of tech and economy from before the Fall and its development, or regression, as the case was, after the Fall."

The holograph in the middle of the room showed a huge landscape of the capital city prior to the attack, all its buildings still intact and traffic still active, then shimmered and metamorphed into what the city looked like an hour ago.

"As you can see, our capital was spared _total annihilation_, but certainly not destruction. We got our share of bombs and debris thrown at us."

"I see that and I sympathize for the loss of life and property," Dylan conceded, an edge of frustration creeping into his voice, "but you still have not answered our questions, not straightforward."

Erik, too, was becoming frustrated. "Captain Hu-- Dylan... I beg to differ. I told you what the RNSA contains. The only conclusion is that they wanted to take our files."

"No. The Collectors wouldn't make this much of an effort to coordinate an attack on a well-defended system just to take a couple of flexis about your commercial failures after the Fall. They came after something much bigger."

"King Erik," Trance stepped forward, with a much calmer attitude than the two men were displaying, "please. We must know what the Collectors were coming after. I mean _clearly_ you are hiding something, and the Collectors have found out about it. If you tell us, then we will be able to assess the significance of the item - or people or whatever it is - relative to the war and the coming Magog invasion, and be able to come up with a much better way of deciding how much of the High Guard should be committed to keeping the planet out of enemy hands."

_She's right_, King Erik thought, _The Collectors will come again. And when they do, it will be disadvantageous to be having distrust. And if I can't trust Dylan and his crew, who can I trust?_. His tension was visibly dissipating.

"Alright, then," the King said. "I will tell you, and show you. But this must not go beyond this room. It's enough that the Collectors know already. If others find out, all the High Guard in the universe wouldn't be able to defend us against attackers."

He then keyed in commands on the console, and it shut off the holograph, which had been still switching between the "before" and "after" views of the city. He then pressed on another console, and spoke, "How are the search and rescue missions going? Any survivors?". A few seconds later, a female voice replied, "So far, it's like a desert out here, without the sand. The atomic bomb incinerated this whole place. It will be a miracle if we find anyone alive who's even just hanging by a thread." Erik looked down, then said, "OK, well, keep looking, maybe someone did get lucky and is still miraculously alive. Pray to the Divine and keep looking. King Erik, out." The comm deactivated.

"It looked bad from _Andromeda_, Erik," Dylan said, "I'm sorry. I should have been able to defend the planet. But I failed you."

"You tried. Now, let's go."

They exited the room.

-----------------------

"Triumvirs, we did not acquire the target," a young Captain said, as the Triumvirs of the Collector Commonwealth - Tri-Jema, Tri-Camille, and, self-appointed, Tri-Pish - scrutinized. "We destroyed much of their fleet. Two of their capital ships are crippled, another completely destroyed."

"But you did not reach Ne'Holland Prime," Tri-Pish said. "You only got close enough to the planet to bombard it and then self-destruct. Not a single soldier set foot on the planet, noone entered the Palace."

"They were well-prepared, sir," the Captain tried to explain nervously.

"I believe we may have a mole," Tri-Camille nodded towards Tri-Jema.

"It's not _me_," Tri-Jema shot back a spiteful glare. "There is far too much for me at stake - and I mean personally - to betray the Collectors! You know that!"

"I was referring to your Assistant, Adria Tarn," Tri-Camille smirked. "No need for _you_ to get so worked up. It was she who delivered the comunique to get the fleet ready at Urudi, and she was with you when you coordinated the attack with the Nietzschean fleet commanders."

"I will look into it," Tri-Jema replied, glancing at Tri-Pish, who was smiling at her, mischievously, but knowingly. "This may have been a gaffe on my part, and I may have made logistical mistakes regarding attack on Ne'Holland. But it is in no way a betrayal. You only haven't made mistakes because you've been on the job for - how long? - 2 or 3 weeks? So laugh it up while you can because you will soon know what being a Triumvir is like. And you have yet to make a good impression, anyway, Camille _Ortiz_!"

"Don't bring my sister into this," the other Triumvir spit back with anger. "She's been taken care of and she's no longer in power here. That is all that counts. I am not the one who created the Magellanic Alliance and ran it democratically into the ground when the Kalderans attacked. If I was President of the Alliance, I would have held it with a tight grip, consolidated power, and gotten to know and made friends with people who also have strong bases of power. And now, her democratic blindness also led the Commonwealth into despair, supporting that crazed Dylan Hunt, as if he were the Divine's gift to the Tri-Galaxies. And now, we're stuck in a civil war, because of idealists like her and Hunt. So if you think about comparing me to Isabella, you have another thing coming, because we are anything but alike." The Captain stirred uncomfortably, witnessing a never-heard-of-before squabble between Tri-Jema and Tri-Camille, whom everyone assumed to be confidantes, especially at Hunt's trial. Pish Tryan, of course, noticed it.

"Please, Triumvirs," he said soothingly, "Do not fight over such petty details as kinship and family. We still have a guest," Pish nodded toward the military officer, "and we still have Adria Tarn to think about."

"You're right, sorry," the two women said in unison.

"Now, young man, you will not be punished," Tri-Pish said calmly, "the _Andromeda_ is definitely not to be underestimated. She survived almost nonstop battle for the past 3 years that she was building the Commonwealth, which, as we all know, has by now unfortunately left her and her crew a bit jaded. You will be given an assignment again shortly. Go back to your ship and oversee that it is loaded up with ordnance again as soon as possible."

"Yes, Triumvir, thank you," the Captain saluted and briskly left the room.

"Now, about Adria Tarn," Tri-Camille began again once the door slid shut behind the young man.

"I'll talk to her personally," Tri-Pish said quickly, "with Tri-Jema present, since she _is_ her subordinate."

"Of course," Tri-Jema agreed.

"It is settled, then."

"But what about Ne'Holland?"

"We will try again... surprise them while they're weak. You will get the job of coordinating once again."

"Very well."

"Yes, it better be done very well, Tri-Jema. Remember: you have a lot at stake here, and, as you have already mentioned yourself, that is personally, not professionally."

"I understand."

"This meeting is adjourned."

-----------------------

Adria Tarn was sitting in her apartment, watching the flexi showing the news report about the "enemy's treacherous and merciless attack on a loyalist diplomatic ship and its defensive convoy at Ne'Holland."

_Cheap propaganda. I could come up with better than that in a nanosecond. But this is war, after all. And when there is war, there is always a need for intel... And everyone knows I'm the best there is..._

She switched off the flexi and looked at a wall monitor. On the screen, it showed Tri-Jema and Tri-Pish coming down the hallway. _Terrific. What did I do now?_

She got up and looked into a mirror. Her blond hair was too long already. After this job was done, she would chop it off - it was much more comfortable having short hair than having long hair tangle up and get in front of your eyes when you had to make a quick getaway. _Ah, womanhood... the most beautiful thing in the universe and yet with so many little problems._

She finally walked toward the door, unlocking it with the wall console so that the Triumvirs don't have to "be inconvenienced so much", rolling her eyes with annoyance while pushing the proper command keys. Their footsteps were already very close... They were at her door... It opened, and they came through.

"We have to talk," Tri-Jema said.

"With him?" Adria pointed at Pish Tryan. "With all due respect, sir, I am not your Assistant. We have no business with each other."

"Oh, yes we do, Adria," Tri-Pish smiled. "In fact, I have some questions to ask you, and you _will_ answer them."

"And if I don't?"

"Then," Tri-Jema answered instead of Tri-Pish, "you will lose your position, be incarcerated for sabotage, espionage, and every other charge in the Commonwealth Charter. Afterwards, you will be tortured to get the answers out that way. If that doesn't work, you will be killed."

"Well, I'm glad to have such _good friends_ in such high places," Adria said bitterly. "But fine, let's talk."


End file.
